Another A-star for topping the trogladyte list

“Are you coming tonight?” says Alice, placing the coffee cup on the desk.

“Tonight?” Mary feverishly racks her brain. Nope, nothing springs to mind.

“It’s Bob’s leaving-do, remember, and as the boss, you’re obliged to attend.”

“Damn!” she mumbles. A sudden onset of heat invades her insides. “I need the bathroom.”

The chair scrapes over the floor as she rushes to seek solace, but John, the photocopy guy, provides the office with a beautiful paper confetti shower after invading her space. She ignores the protocol of apologising and disappears, leaving him to sort out the mess.

Pleased to find the room empty, she slams the cubicle door and rejoices in the wood’s coldness as it seeps into her face. When thoughts gravitate back to the evening’s merriment, the roller coaster inside her chest speeds out of control along its tracks. With a flick, the lid falls down and she squats. Eyes closed, she monitors her breathing, trying to steady the pattern. Months since the last attack, the signs another episode is imminent are unmistakable.

Of course, If Dan accompanied her, she’d be an energetic social butterfly loved by all. But he’s gone, and now any interaction is her nemesis. Thanks to his departure, she has become socially awkward, which is a dilemma because as the boss, attending isn’t optional.

The idea of small talk terrifies. What words should follow “Hello, how are you?” Why wasn’t she as confident as Dan? His ability to chatter was of Olympic gold medal standards. But her saviour has gone, and she is at the mercy of overly nice colleagues who mean well.

Tap! Tap! Tap!. 

There’s knocking. When did someone enter? 

“Mary, are you okay in there?” 

“Be out in a minute.” Lips pursed, she exhales deeply, flushes (must pretend to have pee’d) and departs the tiny safe-haven to be greeted with concern. 

“Sorry,” Alice says. “Don’t feel obliged to be there. If you want to miss tonight’s proceedings, Bob will understand. I realise the difficulty of attending… without Dan.”

“Thanks. It’s just… well, you know that moment when you’re standing together, saying nothing and that lack of words or noise develops into an awkward hush, that leaves you wondering if you should speak to fill the void?” 

Alice nods. 

“Well, that’ll be tonight, but piteous gazes will accompany it as people ‘understand’ my personal situation and I’ll hate it.”

She operates the cold water tap and fills the sink, hoping the sharpness of the liquid against her face dislodges the negativity. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Alice’s look is sombre, and her regretful expression adds to the guilt. 

Maybe Mary should alter her outlook, regardless of the lack of desire she feels. 

“I’ll attend for a while, dish out a few hellos, then leave,” she says. Then, after crawling home to the comfort of her bed, she will return to wallowing. “Let’s get back,” she continues, praying Alice moves the issue to pending before deleting it.

*

“See you in the pub. Don’t be long,” yells Alice as she bounds out.

“Okay,” is the only response Mary can muster, as negativity forges its way inwards. She’s bailing. The enormity is too monstrous to comprehend. Her mind and body can’t handle it. Back to the safety of the cubicle, she perches and berates herself for her actions.

She is a ridiculous idiot who should seize life and appreciate its preciousness. Instead, this bumbling mess will continue attending a solo pity party until death sweeps in and removes her. Another A-star for topping the troglodyte list. Dan would be so proud.

‘She’s always a woman to me.’

‘She’s always a woman to me.’

(Dan’s favourite song) She rummages around her handbag, trying to locate the mobile. 

Okay Billy, I’m coming.

Got it.

“Hi, Alice… Yes, I am still in the office, contemplating my next move……… yes, if I slink off home, I will text you, I promise.”

As she stares at her reflection, she shakes her head at the pathetic creature peering back. With hands on either side of the sink, her gaze lowers, and she concentrates on the swirling liquid gushing down the plughole. It’s time to gather her belongings and retreat.

*

The silence beyond hits before she places the key in the lock. This house is her lifeline and tormentor. Behind the walls, memories allow recollections of life with Dan to arouse her inner turmoil. Yet, she gladly rushes back and endures it. 

“Don’t glare in that way. I hate myself enough.” Mary says, passing his photograph on the sideboard. Dan’s judgement is already obvious.

“Besides, it’s your fault,” she yells, approaching the kitchen. 

So, tea or wine! Oh, who is she kidding?

After opening the fridge, she pulls out the half-opened red and grabs the glass that is precariously perched on the draining board.

“You’re a ridiculous specimen, Mary Walker,” she announces before hurling it into the sink. 

The tiny shards glisten like diamonds underneath a spotlight, and grabbing a mug and the bottle, she leaves them to their display and heads for the bedroom. 

She needs the flannel pyjamas, a second skin and comfort blanket that are her warmth. She failed to realise how imposing Dan’s presence was until he wasn’t there. Although his scent lingered on the pillow, the iciness on his side of the bed served as a reminder of her loss. That vast terrain still too terrifying to navigate stays cold, unloved, allowing his presence to be unencumbered. The pillow remains unwashed, even though the smell dissolved weeks ago. His head had graced it, and to eradicate that imprint was unthinkable. She will restore the aroma, once courage worms its way inside.

The green glow informs her of the time, 8:07 pm. Have they noticed her absence? It’s not too late to shower, change and join them. Who was she kidding? She’s settled now. 

Your mind and body can’t face it, Mary. So stop with the bravado and just admit that you’re pathetic. 

Conquering her nemesis is fundamental. When the grief subsides to a manageable level, she will live, as fulfilling Dan’s request is a prerequisite. 

From the drawer, she removes the letter, his letter. Presented to her after his death, but she did not know he had written it. It stated his wish, love must find its way into her heart again. Of course, socialising is necessary for achieving that, so she had better shape-up. To disappoint him is not an option.